


Todd Bozeman: The Story of a Bantam Suits Manager

by spookyfan2



Series: Catherine [1]
Category: Catherine (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Gen, Horror, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-11 01:36:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16466201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyfan2/pseuds/spookyfan2
Summary: A peek into the past of Todd Bozeman from the Atlus video game Catherine.





	Todd Bozeman: The Story of a Bantam Suits Manager

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to write a few Catherine stories due to the upcoming game Catherine: Full Body.  
> I plan to write at least one story for every Bar Patron.  
> Who's next, you ask? Maybe you should ask a reporter.

  
_"I like my women like I like my blankets: replaced by a maid every morning!"_  


  
_~ Mr. Bozeman_

  
As I sit at my desk, I can't help but feel like something is missing. My office wasn't too small. It gave me room to stretch out, personalize a little bit here and there, and I have a decent view of the city from my window. But the simple fact of the matter is that this office wasn't nearly as good as my last. You'd think I'd care more for my salary, but for some strange reason, I found myself more upset with the fact that my office was demoted, rather than my job position and my bi-weekly paycheck.

    I wonder why that is? Regardless the reason, this new office has given me a lot of time to think. After falling a rung or two down the corporate ladder, I've seen a sufficient decrease in my work load. Back then, when I was in my shiny, expensive, beautifully designed office, it felt like my phone was ringing every ten minutes. Now, my phone barely rang at all, unless it was my subordinate Mr. Wallace inviting me for lunch.

    I've... done some bad things. It's because of those things that I was put here; Now beneath a manager who was far more inexperienced and unqualified than I. But I suppose I have no one to blame but myself. You see, in my attempts to avoid following in my father's footsteps, I ended up doing just that; And because of my actions, I pushed a tortured soul to attempt suicide.

\---------------------------------

    It was a night like any other. I had achieved a successful career in the making and selling of business attire, and the company's jingle was present in the minds of every young man in this city looking to dress for success.

_You'll be the cock of the waaalk in a Bantam~!_

Now, I had everything I thought I would never achieve. I've already lived longer than my father ever had, and without my old man standing in the way of my success, I was able to make a living, and even support a family. My wife and I have been together for quite some time, now, and I'd _like_  to say she's made an honest man out of me; but who am I kidding? A man's at his most powerful when he's surrounded by women. So you see, as the head of Bantam Suits at the time, I had a vacant position for an intern: An associate that I could boss around like you see in those cute comic strips in the Sunday papers. I had quite a few promising gals sign up for the position; Gals who were as cute as they were young. But having my eyes glued to my co-manager's own subordinate - A lovely woman by the name of Katherine McBride - I knew that hiring a woman I found attractive would only lead to trouble. 

    That's when Archie Wallace came into my life. Of all the applicants that looked promising, Archie's was the only male candidate. He has a few hiccups in his records, it would seem, but nothing I couldn't overlook for the sake of a mutual business relationship. With Archie as my intern, he could acquire the experience he needs, and I could keep a level head despite my growing corporate and financial success. With Archie at my side, I'm sure I will never turn into the man my father was. Never.

    Archie and I quickly bonded. It started out with small talk, y'know, the usual necessities of day to day interactions. But it wasn't until Archie himself invited me out for a drink one Monday night that I started to see a little bit of him in myself. Neither of us even had that many drinks before Archie began to confide in me about his past. Now, I don't think telling your boss fucked up shit about your personal history is the best thing for an employee to do, but there was something about Archie's sincerity and openness that really endeared him to me. You see, here was a man - young and inexperienced -  as if he were taking his first steps in the world a few weeks ago, applying for a job he so clearly wants, and when he achieves it, he displays everything about who he is to the people who matters; The good and the bad.

    I couldn't have asked for a better person to be my comrade. Honest, brutal, a bit pathetic, but in a way that builds character... This man is better than any sexy, glasses wearing intern I could have chosen from the application pile. Sure, he's no Katherine McBride, with her stellar legs and a knock-out gorgeous behind, but a friend is what I needed most, not eye-candy. 

    Looking at Archie, I felt compelled to share my own history. Of my days growing up in the Bozeman household. Days of misery. Days of fear. Days of excruciating pain. I told Archie everything - From my father's urges to beat me, to my mother's practically nonexistent presence in the household. It wasn't long before both of us got drunk, as if to ease the pain of displaying our dark past and reliving the atrocities our parents have dealt upon us. It was ironic, in a way, that the first time I had drowned in alcohol as much as my father used to every night, I reached a low point in my life.

    That night, as Archie and I were heading out of the Stray Sheep, we ran into one Mr. Morgan Cortez, and that night, he managed to say every wrong thing he could have. You see, Mr. Cotrez admired my father - _Everyone_  did. They didn't realize what a real sack of shit that man was on the inside. I couldn't even blame them, because I myself didn't realize until after he died. I just thought it was normal for a parent to abuse their kid like that, especially since I was failing to live up to my father's expectations. 

    After a drunken shouting match with Morgan, things quickly escalated to a point where Archie and I had to be removed from the premises. A few blows were fired, and I'm ashamed to admit that Archie had to watch his superior knock the lights out of Morgan that night.

\---------------------------------

  
_"Don't be a Tumbleweed; Be like Ivy. Always climbing."_  
_~Mr. Bozeman_

  
A snap and a whistle. That's how I started my daily routine in the office. With a snap and a whistle.

    _You'll be the cock of the waaalk in a Bantam~! *snap* *Tweeet!*_

In a joyous, sing-song voice, I would announce my presence by singing the company's jingle. My employees would look to me with eager eyes, despite the fact that I had nothing to say - I never did. I suppose it's just a side effect of being such an awesome boss. They didn't look at me because they had to, they looked at me because - I liked to think, anyway - I was their fearless leader. Even Katherine would greet me in the mornings occasionally, and on certain days when the starts aligned, Katherine would even finish off the jingle with a snap of her fingers and a whistle of her own.

    It was a silly routine, but I couldn't think of a better ritual to start the day off. There was a certain comfort to it, as if the day never truly began until it occurred. It also showed our pride in the company by singing the jingle, despite the fact people rarely joined in.

    Oddly enough, it wasn't the dreaded phone call I remembered most that day. It was the moments just before. The simple, happy moments. I remember waking up feeling better than I had in weeks; As if I was my own man. For the first time ever, I think I managed to make it through my entire morning commute without thinking of my old man even once. When I got to work, I was feeling so giddy, that I even hopped a little bit as I sang the jingle. 

    _You'll be the cock of the waaaaalk~~ In a Bantam!_

I remember the smiling faces my employees gave me as I walked in. I remember Katherine actually speaking to me: "You seem more chipper than usual!"  
    I remember stepping into my cool office, ready to start the new week fresh. Nothing had changed in my life, but for some reason, I just knew that it would be smooth sailing from here on out.

    But then the phone rang.

\---------------------------------

    "Looks like you've got a guardian angel looking out for you," the cop had said.

    It was the night I had assaulted Mr. Morgan. Or perhaps I should say morning? Point is, I had just spent a night in the slammer after being charged with assaulting an officer. You see, in all of my drunken rage, I forgot that Mr. Morgan was a police officer. Ahah, just my luck. Why did I have to go and attack the poor fool? Something he said must have _really_  pissed me off if I went that far. Especially in front of Archie... Christ, I wish he hadn't seen that...

    But now, a cop opened my cell, informing me I was free to go. His face was cold and stern; As if he were telling a stray dog to get lost. I tried asking him what fines I would have to pay, but he just told me I was no longer obliged to pay _anything_. My charges were completely an utterly dropped.

    When I asked if it was Mr. Morgan's doing, the obvious suspect, the officer just gave me another vague statement about a 'Guardian Angel'. Figures.

    I left the police station that day feeling worse than I ever had. A part of me was glad I was arrested; It's the kind of justice I had hoped my dad would receive for his drunk rampages before he went and died. And yet, my charges were miraculously dropped, as if an angel from heaven truly did drop from the sky to help me out.

    But I don't deserve a guardian angel.

\---------------------------------

  
_"Everyone deserves a second chance."_  
_~Todd Bozeman_

  
I answered the phone before it's second ring.

    "You've reached Todd Bozeman, of Bantam Suits! How may I help you today?"

    "..."

    Silence. I would have thought that the line cut out, if it weren't for the fact that I could hear rustling sounds and heavy breathing on the other end. Frankly, it spooked the shit out of me.

    "Yes, hello? Are you alright?" I asked, somehow concerned that whoever phoned me may have been in danger.

    "No, I'm not," a deep, familiar voice replied, mercifully ending the silence. "But soon, it'll all be over."

    The voice didn't sound too happy. I knew immediately that whoever this was on the phone, he may have been planning to do something drastic.

    "Hey now, who are you? Why did you call? I'd be happy to assist you with anything I can." I said, changing my voice to a much more timid, yet caring tone. I briefly considered just hanging up the phone and continuing on with my happy-go-lucky day, but something about this man's voice held me captivated.

    "I'm... I'm a murderer. And I don't know why I called- I-...  I just needed to hear someone's voice before..." He let out a sigh, registering loudly on the phone. 

    I stood from my desk at once, my heart beating in my chest like it was trying to break my rib cage. Dragging the cord attached to my phone, I waddled my way towards my office's front facing window, outside of which, my employees were working at their desks, answering phones and filling out paper work. I started knocking.

    "Before I... Before I reunite with her...!" The man said, his sullen voice suddenly cracking with bits of emotion. I don't like where this is going. Did I just hear someone confess to a murder? If a phone call like that taints the company's image... I mean, shit, who the hell died?!? 

    After knocking for longer than I thought I would have to, a few employees finally glanced in my direction. Good, as long as someone is looking...

    I swung the phone down and covered the speaker with my hands. _"Go find me our phonebook!"_ I half whispered, half shouted with carefully emphasized mouthing, as if to speak to my employees without them hearing my voice. They looked at me like I was crazy.

    I pointed to the archive filing cabinets by the accounting firm, and motioned with my hands as if I were unlocking a cabinet and withdrawing records. _"Phone Records! Bring to me!"_ I mouthed, while acting out the action I wanted someone - anyone - to comprehend. I ended my little charade by pointing to the phone in my hand with my other hand. Finally, a pale faced salesman leaped from his desk and ran to the filing cabinet. I pulled my phone back to my ear.

    "Listen," I said, cutting short the man's ramblings. "Whatever you've done, we don't need to dwell on things. We've got all the time in the world. You said you wanted to hear someone's voice, right? Well listen to mine: Whatever you are thinking of doing, don't. At the very least, calm yourself, first."

    I was just trying to keep this man on the phone for as long as I could. This could be a prank, but I'd be a damned fool if I dismissed this phone call for the simple reason that I didn't want it to ruin my day. Especially when the voice on the other end is so familiar. Suddenly, there is a knock on my window as the pale faced salesman triumphantly holds up our client records. Goddamnit.

    _"PHONE. BOOK."_ I mouthed with all of the emphasis I could muster. To a random bystander, it would look like I was making monkey faces at my poor employees. The salesman's face dropped as he ran back to the filing cabinet.

    "You don't understand- I'll never be in the right state of mind again." The voice said. "No, that's not it- There _IS_ no right state of mind! Not without her!"

    What in the hell, did this man just break up with his girlfriend or something? Or worse... Did he murder her? He's not one of our employees, is he?!? Is that why he has our number? Is that why he sounds familiar? Who's absent today, huh? Think, Todd, think...!

    The salesman, his pale face now a bright red, burst into my office without knocking, and handed me the phone records. _"Thank you!"_ I mouthed. The salesman held his hand forward, probably wanting a high five, but I completely drove him out of my mind as I thumbed through the records, comparing the number displayed on my phone with the endless sea of numbers in our files. This man _must_  be in our records; A client, an employee from another branch, _someone_.

    "She's dead, you hear me? And it's all my fault!" The voice said, just as I found a match. My heart sinks as the wonderful day I was having turned itself inside out and puked itself all over my Bantam suit.

    "Calm down, Mr. Morgan," I said. "And tell me where you are."

\---------------------------------

    * _Squish*_

"Jesus, they're every where today..." I muttered to myself as I crush the third ant of the day under the pressure of my thumb. I wipe my hand on the carpet of my new, decrepit little office.

    You see, my old, shiny office would never have an ant infestation like this. Just another check on the shitty office itinerary. But this office isn't so bad of a price to pay for assaulting Mr. Morgan that day, really.

    Not when I consider everything that Mr. Morgan has already lost.

_A New Look is all it takes to appreciate your life.  
A New Look is all it takes to appreciate someone's hardships._

 _And where better to find A New Look than Bantam Suits?_

    


End file.
